


The Grand Duchess

by Vanguard



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia Fusion, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-10-27 07:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17762711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanguard/pseuds/Vanguard
Summary: Anastasia AU: 1927, Communist Russia is beginning to truly form, but there is a rumor that the Grand Duchess Hope Mikaelson may still be alive. And if so, the grieving aunt of the Grand Duchess, Rebekah, will reward handsomely. So, like any good cons, Josie and Kol decide to monopolize.





	1. Prologue and Petersburg

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: this basically follows Anastasia on Broadway in terms of pretty much everything, so I do not claim to own anything regarding the plot, dialogue, etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one thing I want to get out of the way: yes Niklaus is the Tsar and Hayley is the Tsarina which means they are married. The only reason I did this was because it was easier than having to make the Tsarina Camille or Caroline or whoever else, but still have Hayley as her mother. This way the Tsar and Tsarina are just Hope's actual parents, and you can make up whatever back story you like since at the end of the day, it isn't a major detail.
> 
> Fair warning, for the sake of this fic, Kol is not a Mikaelson. You can pretend he is in his witch body if you prefer, but I just really wanted to use Kol in this fic and this best way to do so was if he wasn't a Mikaelson (unless of course you would prefer he'd be implied as dead).
> 
> If you've read anything else by me, you know this has not been proofread. Lemme know if I should continue this. Otherwise, enjoy!

_St. Petersburg, Russia - 1906_

"Why must you go, Bekah?" a small Hope pouted from her bed.

"It's time to go. I've stayed too long."

"Take me to Paris with you!"

"You'll visit me with your aunt and uncles. There is a statue there crafted for the Saint Marcellus, a name shared by your uncle... he was always so fascinated by the Saint Marcellus. Apparently, the Bishop Marcellus protected his flock against a female vampire who fed on Parisians and defeated her. He loved the nobility of it, though he never got to see it... you and I shall go visit it. And we'll go to the opera every night."

"Take me to Paris with you now, Auntie Bex!"

Rebekah cupped Hope's face in her hands. "You are always in my heart, Hope. Wherever I go, you are with me. You're my favorite. Strong, not afraid of anything! But shh, our little secret. Don't need Tsar Niklaus learning he's not the favorite Mikaelson anymore, hm?"

Hope giggled and grabbed Rebekah's hands. "But who will tell me my bedtime stories?"

"Oh, you remember the story, don't you? Of a king and his noble brother. I've told it to you many times over many nights, yes?" Hope nodded. "As long as you remember our story, I will always be with you."

Hayley entered the room, with nothing less than the grace of a queen of an empire, looking upon the scene. "Have you said your prayers, Hope?"

"Yes, mama."

"For your father, the Tsar, for your aunts and uncles, for Russia herself?"

"Yes, mama."

"What are you two talking about?"

Rebekah smiled a wistful smile. "Making sure she recalls our bedtime story, so she will remember me while I am away."

"Better prayers than tales in these difficult times, Rebekah."

Niklaus hurries in. "It's the last ball of the season, Rebekah, must you leave again? All of St. Petersburg will be there. I am sure that Paris can wait for your arrival just a day longer. And it would make Hope so happy."

"We've discussed this, Nik." Rebekah turns to Hope, who has hopped up to stand on the bed. She grabs her hands and sneakily folds something in them. "Remember, Hope, Paris." 

With one last squeeze of the hands and a parting smile to Nik, Rebekah is walking away, back too straight and composure too calm to truly be okay with leaving her precious niece. Hope looks down to see a pendant in her hand with the Mikaelson crest, and a lock mechanism Rebekah had taught her to work months before. 

"Bekah... Bekah!" Hope hops down from the bed and tries to chase after her aunt for one last hug before her father swoops her up and spins her round, placing her gently back on the bed.

"The Tsar requests the first dance, mademoiselle," he states proudly, posture straightening as he offers his hand out to her.

Hope raises her chin proudly, a small gleam of pride in her eye. "I am the Grand Duchess Hope Andrea Mikaelson!"

Hope and her father begin to dance as her mother looks on fondly at the scene.

* * *

 

_1917_

Hope whirls around the ballroom joyfully as she enjoys the ball thrown in honor of her Name Day. For most of her time, she is kept within the palace walls, but tonight she finally gets another taste of life as she dances and enjoys the company of many suitors vying for her hand. She catches Elijah's eye across the room and he gives her a playfully smirk and raises his champagne flute to her as she sends him back a playful glare. She notices a photographer across the room and watches as her father summons his guests over for a picture. 

She smiled to herself, about to approach the photograph to see if she might obtain a copy of the photo for herself when glass shatters across the ballroom. Some of the suitors approach tentatively only for gunfire to ring out as guests scramble for cover and exits. Guards quickly run to lock windows and doors as hell is unleashed upon the festivities.

"Papa!" Hope cried, lunging for her father as he grabbed her, pulling her close and holding her tightly against him.

"Niklaus, we must leave, now!" Elijah called, ushering out Hayley and other family and suitors from an exit opposite that of the chaos.. 

"Everything will be alright, Hope," Niklaus promised as they ran towards the door and out into the night. 

"Wait, Aunt Bekah's necklace." Before the Tsar can grab her, she is running across the ballroom and through the palace, grabbing the jewelry box. Looking out the window, she sees the night sky blood red and furious as her father comes and grabs her arm yanking her away from the window as silhouettes come nearer.

"Come on, Hope! We must leave! Everything will be okay. Everything will be okay."

Her father kept repeating it, but as they fled, their group became smaller and smaller with family and suitors leaving to fend for themselves.

But everything would be okay.

* * *

Rebekah opens a letter as she sits in her study. 

"All of them?" She reads the letter again. No, surely, some of the must have survived. They truly could not have been so cruel as to take away all of them? Niklaus, Elijah, Hayley, Camille-

Hope.

Her beloved niece. Only seventeen. Still a mere child. Still had yet to visit her in Paris. 

"All of them."

The letter crumples slightly in her fist as she clutches it to her chest, tears streaming down her face as sobs wrack her body. Her lady-in-waiting, Davina, hurries in and takes Rebekah and gingerly tries to lead her away towards her bedroom.

"All of them."

* * *

_1927_

"Three long centuries we were bound by Mikaelson chains, but no longer. My dear comrades, we are free to forge a Russia better than it ever was before! It will be a hard and long journey, but it is ours to make! Our beloved homeland shall be the envy of all the world once we are through with building it. To prove it true, we have taken the Tsar's 'Petersburg' and renamed it as the people's 'Leningrad!'"

Josie scoffed. "They can call it Leningrad, but it'll always be Petersburg! Just because Russia is under new management doesn't make it any better than before. I don't know about any of the other homeless people on this street, but I'm not eating any better as a Communist comrade than I was as a Tsarist peasant! That deputy-lieutenant-whatever Roman is full of it," she laughs to those sitting beside her who quickly shake their heads and point behind her.

She looks over and finds Roman glaring at her and approaching, at which point she tips her hat to him and scurries off into the crowd. 

"Be careful what you say," one of the onlookers warned. "The walls have ears."

She nodded to him. "I'd like to see them try and make me disappear."

A woman came up and leaned into the conversation. "Hey, wanna hear the latest gossip of Petersburg?"

Josie scoffed. "What you mean the only thing that keeps anyone around here sane?"

The woman swatted her arm. "Hush, Josette. Even though the Tsar didn't make it, people are beginning to spread that his daughter, Hope, might have made it out alive from the execution. But you didn't hear it from me."

Josie tilts her head, considering as she reaches down to tie her shoelace. Maybe it was possible. Maybe it was possible that... no. Don't be ridiculous. The girl was dead. She was sentenced to death by the Bolsheviks, and she and her family were put in front of a Bolshevik firing squad in a cellar. There was no way anyone could have made it out of that alive.

"Apparently, her aunt is willing to pay a pretty penny from the Mikaelson fortune for anyone who can safely return the Tsar's darling daughter to her." The woman adds as almost an afterthought before walking away to gather more gossip.

Josie's head snaps up and stands, struggling to tie her shoe and hop along in pursuit of the woman, almost reaching her before she hears a voice calling after her, distracting her for long enough to lose her in the crowd.

"Josette! They closed another border!" Josie turns annoyedly to look at her partner, Kol. "We should've gotten out of Russian while we still could. I told you, Russia isn't in its prime anymore from when I passed myself off as a count. And in case you've forgotten-" he swats her head with his hat when he notices that she has yet to actually hear a word he's said "- the Tsar is dead and we are stuck here!"

"Kol, I've been thinking about the Grand Duchess Hope Mikaelson-"

He runs a hand through his hair and groans exasperatedly. "No, no, absolutely not, I am not letting you drag me down this rabbit hole."

"Think about it, we just need a girl to fit the part. We find the girl and then we get the hell out of Russia. Who gives a damn of whether Hope Andrea Mikaelson is truly alive or dead if it gets us out?"

"Her loving auntie would pay a nice reward..."

"And who else could pull it off but you and me, huh? No one. So what do you say? A scheme to make the history books."

Kol gave a devilish grin. "You and me, Josette."

"Haha! That's the devilish bastard I know and love! If we are going to do this, though, we need to do it right. We need to go to the market. There are always people there trying to sell off 'authentic' Mikaelson items. We need something of Hope's to show the woman if we want her to accept our little actress."

The pair enter and wander around the crowded market of Mikaelson vendors before a necklace catches Josie's eye. "How much for it?"

The teller looks at her as though shocked at the notion. "The pendant? Why it is genuine Mikaelson, I could never part with my last remnant of our beloved Tsar and his daughter."

"Not even for two cans of-"

"Done."

Josie places two cans of beans on his stand and he tosses her the necklace. "Kol, do you believe in fairytales?"

Her partner scoffed. "Not for a very long time, luv."

She holds up the pendant and starts fiddling with the latch on the side. "With this, we are going to create a fairytale the whole world will believe. It's risky, but we've been through worse." She ignored the skeptical glance Kol gave her. "We get our princess and we get the hell out of Russia my dear friend."

"Yes, assuming we don't get shot in the process, I'm sure the adventure will make a lovely little pass time."


	2. In My Dreams

"I am the Grand Duchess Hope Mikaelson!"

Josie and Kol exchanged a pained look at the terrible actress they'd brought in. "Try again," Kol offered. "This time without the gum in your mouth, luv."

Dana scoffed. "It's not gum, it's tobacco." She walks back over to her group and composes herself, suddenly turning dramatically to Kol and Josie. "It's me, Aunt Rebekah, your precious Hope! I was shot... but I lived! And I've traveled across Russia and all of Europe to tell you-" she drops to her knees and practically throws herself on Josie's lap "- I'm alive!"

She stands and tosses her hair back as Josie tries to secretly brush off her lap from Dana's presence. "I'm not really an actress!"

Kol gasped mockingly. "No! I could have sworn I was looking at the Sarah Bernhardt!" 

Josie elbows Kol in the side before forcing on a smile, leading the other girls to the door. "Thank you for the auditions, ladies, we will be in contact."

Dana glared disbelievingly. "What you're doing is illegal, Josette. We lost our best hours on the streets to be here for your little fever dream. If you weren't so gorgeous Josette-" she runs a finger teasingly before her tone turned sharp and pointing a finger in her face, "- I'd report you!"

"Out... out!" Josie chases them out the doors of the palace she and Kol had taken refuge in. 

"We tried, luv, but Hopes don't grow on trees."

Josie scoffed. "I will go to Siberia to find a damn Hope Mikaelson."

"Have you ever been to Siberia?"

"I've never been anywhere but here." She lays back on a couch and begins fiddling with the pendant again.

"The sorry day I took up with you," he scoffs.

"It was me or the Bolshevik firing squad."

There was a light pause. "You saved my life that day, Josette."

"A rash act of kindness," Josie interjects, pretending as though she doesn't see the look of fake hurt on Kol's face. "Completely out of character!" She holds up the pendant to the light. The Mikaelson family crest.

The two share a laugh before Kol wags a finger in her direction. "Stop messing with that thing before you break it! It's a fake, and fakes break easy."

"You would know, you're the biggest fake of them all. The Count Kol Popov! How anyone accepted you as nobility I will never know." She dodges the hat thrown her way. "If it's a fake, someone put a lot of trouble into getting the family crest engraved on it."

Kol is about to retort when there is a heavy knock on the door. "Those women ratted on us! Well at least they'll feed us in jail!"

Josie ducks behind the wall by the door, chair raised over her head, ready to strike. The door creaks open. She hears the footsteps, small and quiet... definitely not those of Bolshevik soldiers coming to arrest them. Then a gasp.

"I'm looking for someone called Josette."

She hears Kol emit a relieved laugh. "That's Josette over there, the one waving the chair above her head like a fool."

Josie hurriedly puts the chair down and leans on it before studying their visitor. Long auburn hair, delicate features, but a certain fire in her eyes... she was gorgeous. 

She cleared her throat. "What do you want?"

"I need exit papers. I was told you were the only person who could help me."

Josie scoffed. "The right exits papers cost a lot, unless you want to be put in front of a firing squad for it. What do you do?"

"I'm a street sweeper. But I washed dishes in Odessa, and before that, I worked in the hospital in Perm."

Josie looked over at their visitor again. "You're a long way from where you were."

"I walked."

Josie arched an eyebrow and turned to her. "You walked all the way from Perm? Who are you running from? And I swear if you say the Bolsheviks you are never going to be within five miles of us again."

Her brows furrowed. "I'm not running from someone; I'm running _to_ someone. I don't know who, but I know they're waiting for me in Paris!"

Josie laughed and looked over at Kol who shared her skeptical look. "Well in that case you don't need papers! No, you see, there's a canal out there. Jump in and start swimming: you'll be in Paris in no time!" She and Kol laugh. "The girl's crazy!"

She stands and smacks Josie on the arm. "I am not crazy! I have met many people but few are so unkind," she remarks bitterly, venom aimed in her glare at Josie who puts her hands up in surrender as she helps herself to her defense-chair at the other end of the room.

The girl looks around the room and a shadow seems to cross her face. "I've been in this room before... there was a play! Something of an orchard."

Kol makes a grand gesture about the room. "This was the private theatre of the Count Tristan de Martel before the Bolsheviks took over."

"Everyone was beautifully dressed, gowns that seemed to gleam, and uniforms that looked ready to command a room. They were polite and kind, noble." The girl seems to stumble slightly on her feet.

Josie groans. "Great, she's going to faint on us."

"When is the last time you ate?" Kol fusses as he rushes over with his chair, urging her to sit. "Josette, go fetch some water from the back room, and a bit of that cheese, too."

"We are not a soup kitchen, Kol," she snaps before sulking towards the back.

The girl seems to regain herself and offers a weak smile. "You seem you may yet be a gentleman, even if your companion is not."

"Gentleman?" Kol chuckles fondly. "That i a word I have not heard for a long time. And do be kind to my friend, Josette, life has not been especially kind to her."

"Life has not been kind to anyone," she points out. She turns to see Josie holding a cup of water out for her with a small sliver of cheese. "Thank you."

As she eats, the partners turn to have some kind of exchange before turning back to her. Kol with an expression of curiosity, Josie with one of simply annoyed skepticism. "I am Kol." He bows before her. "What's your name, luv?"

The girl seems to shrink in on herself in the slightest. "I'm not sure." The pair scoffs and Josie gives her partner a look as she hurries on. "I woke up in a hospital. They said I had amnesia... there was nothing they could do for it."

A lightbulb seems to go over the heads of the cons.

"Tell us what you do remember," Kol prods gently as the two retreat to their own ends of the room.

"I don't have many memories. But what I do remember... it was raining. I remember waking and looking around, trying to see but everything seemed so bright. Like my eyes had been kept in darkness for a small eternity. But then out the window, it was dark, raining. Rain tracks streaked down the window... it was like the sky was mourning someone. The nurses seemed kind, but I felt frightened, as though I were about to be harmed. They never spoke to me directly, only attempting to give me shots. Always whispering to one another, discussing something or another. I suppose it must have been me. The girl with no name.

"After I left, I traveled using backroads, slept wherever I could. Sometimes I would find a family kind enough to offer me refuge for the night, but often I would just sleep in the woods. I worked when I could.

"But in my dreams... it feels like I'm missing something. There are people calling for me just at the edge of my vision, as though I am walking towards someone or something at the end of a long hallway. And a light, a brilliant light, is at the end of it, beckoning me forward. And then-" she looks down at the empty water glass in her hands "- it's all gone.

"I also dream of Paris. The person waiting for me. 'I'll meet you right there.'"

The girl looks down with a wistful smile before Josie catches her attention out of the corner of her eye, and residual anger from before builds inside her.

"You don't know what it's like not to know who you are. I have lived in the shadows of Russia, traveling distances you could never dream. But I... I am haunted by fire, burning before my eyes. And screams of those I think I loved... and yet I have no real memory of them. But I believe them to have been real. You may call me crazy if you so choose, but I know that what I've experienced has brought me here and I know that I will get myself to Paris with or without your help."

By this point, the girl is glaring at Josie and digging a finger into her chest. Her brilliant blue eyes would seem much more beautiful if they were brimming with a fire of pride and defiance.

Josie smiles and looks over at Kol who gives her a grin. "You know what, you are entirely correct, miss. And with a fire like that, you could do it without our help. Though as it just so happens, we are going to Paris ourselves. And it would be a shame if we were to ignore your plight. Do you mind if we give you a name?"

The girl's eyes light up as she looks at Josie to see if she really means it. "No one has bothered trying to truly give me a name before."

"Well, my associate and I believe that if you are to join us, you should be given a name of your own. Welcome, Hope."


	3. Learn to Do It

"Anything, even the most preposterous rumor is taken most seriously should it concern the Mikaelsons. The last thing this country needs is another tyrant." Roman sits at his desk and opens a new folder.

Dana gives a pointed glance over her shoulder at one of the other girls. "I told you." She turns back to Roman. "She's about as much a Mikaelson as I am."

"She was sleeping under a bridge until she took up with them," another interjected.

"She doesn't have a name. She just tells people to call her whatever they please."

"Thank you, ladies."

The trio looks at Roman disbelievingly. "Well aren't you going to go arrest them?"

Roman's jaw clenches. "You've done your duty as I have done mine: listen to your gossip."

"It's not gossip, it's the truth!"

Roman's hands slam down on his desk and the office around him goes silent. He stands, putting a finger under Dana's chin. He looks down at her as she cowers under his glare. His uniform, proud and crisp, medals gleaming on his chest looks all the more imposing over her rags, worn and grimy from use. "The next time I see the three of you  _soliciting_ on Theatre Street-" he stands closer, bringing her chin up slightly so she stands on her tip toes "- I won't look the other way. Shoo."

He blows a light puff of wind on Dana and the three of them scurry out of the office.

He grabs the folder and hands it to one of the office workers. "Another rumor of another girl who no longer plays pretend. Fill out a new report for the girl with no name."

* * *

Hope walks into the palace timidly to see Kol writing on a chalkboard and Josie with her nose buried in a book. 

"Are you ready to become the Grand Duchess Hope Andrea Mikaelson?"

"I'm ready to find out who I am, but I am not going to lie to do it." She begins to walk to the door but Josie cuts her off and gives her a pleading look. "Josette, giving me her name doesn't make me her."

"This isn't a lie, it's helping you to remember the truth: you are the Grand Duchess!"

She scoffed. "I wish I had your confidence."

"If the Dowager accepts you as the missing Mikaelson, then Kol and I will get a small compensation for our efforts and you will be reunited with family! It's a win-win scenario."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then it'll all just be an honest mistake that we can laugh about over brunch." Hope wore a mask of uncertainty. "Either way, it gets you to Paris where you can continue looking for whoever you're looking for that wasn't the Dowager, and it will get us out of Russia."

"How do you become the person you've forgotten you ever were?"

Kol brings out a photo album and ushers Hope to sit. "Close your eyes, and imagine another time. Before the Reds took down the Tsar. When royalty was in. Imagine it; it's another world. 

"Hope Mikaelson was born in a palace by the sea, rode horses, and uh, well you were quite the little devil. Almost on par with myself and Josette here."

"A palace by the sea? Horseback riding? How could that be possible for me?"

Josie snickered. "Oh, the little devil bit she can believe."

Kol thumped her on the back of the head. "You were the only child of the Imperial Family. You were known to play pranks on members of the staff and family. Once, you even rolled a rock into a snowball and threw it at your uncle Elijah: it clocked him right in the temple. You would go to the opera and risk eating chocolate with her long white gloves on. As a child, you would throw tantrums and terrorize the poor cooks until your father would give you that look and get you to behave."

"Charming child," Josie remarks. "Remember it how it was, Hope. Your long forgotten past of family."

Kol helps her up. "Now, stand up straight, chin high. Walk with not only purpose, but also with grace. Allow your arms to move, but do not wave them around like a noodle. Try to float."

Hope was... well she was trying. "I feel rather foolish, Kol. Am I floating?"

"Like a sinking boat," Josie piped in.

Kol steps in before Hope reaches Josie to, presumably, strangle her. "Play nice. Look there is a lot for you to learn and not much time for you to do it. But if I can learn it, so can you!"

Hope seems to relax a little. "You're the ones who don't stand straight," she muttered. 

"It's all his years of bowing in the court of the Tsar," Josie says in a posh voice, bowing deeply.

"Bowing is a sign of respect," Kol says defensively.

"I bowed to someone once." The two begin bickering only to look over at Hope to see her curtsy perfectly. "Where did you learn how to do that?" Josie looks over at Kol who shakes his head.

"It wasn't me... the girl is a natural!"

Kol runs over to the shade and raises it as Josie opens a history book and sits on the back of a chair. "Who was your grandmother?"

"Queen Esther."

"Your best friend is?"

"My Aunt Freya-"

"Wrong, your best friend is-"

"I know who my best friend is!" Hope growls in retort tossing the book into Josie's chest. "I suggest you tread lightly- I do not like being contradicted."

Josie scoffed and stood from her chair and looked down at the girl. "As cute as your temper is, I must say that makes two of us!"

Kol begins to step in only for Hope to whirl on him with that fire in her eyes. He quickly bites his tongue.

"I have had it with the both of you. I hate you both and I am sorry that I ever bothered to come here in the first place. I am hungry and frightened and you decided that was the sign to take me in and groom me into being some mysterious lost princess. I don't remember anything about being her, so get out and leave me alone!"

Josie steps forward only for Kol to grab her shoulder and shake her head. "Hope, luv, we're all frightened. In case you hadn't noticed, Josette and I aren't exactly the most revered Russian citizens. But I need you to take a breath, and count to ten because you are one of the strongest, bravest girls in Russian for not only considering our plan but going through with it. A princess like your majesty can do this. Now... are you ready to begin again?"

Hope looks between the two warily before nodding. "Go."

The duo exchanges a look of pleasant surprise as they rush to the chalkboard in the room where they have the Mikaelson family tree drawn. Kol flips it and Hope can barely suppress her laughter as he smacks Josie in the face with it.

They begin again. 

* * *

 

_Several hours later..._

Hope paces back and forth across the room, biting her nail.

"Count Sergei?"

"He wore a feathered hat."

"I hear he's gotten rather fat in his time in Paris," Kol chuckles.

Hope smiles. "He had a yellow cat."

"... I didn't tell her that. I knew I had a good feeling about you! Since the very moment you stepped through the doors. Well, maybe not quite so soon as you did seem a little bonkers, but after we got past all that, I had a good feeling about you!"

"Wow, you really know how to sweet talk a girl, don't you? No wonder you were able to get into the Tsar's court."

 Josie laughs loudly and Hope can't help but catch herself staring at her careless smile. She's seen many of Josie's smiles: cocky smirk when bantering with Kol; charming smile when talking with market tellers to haggle on price; the small wistful smile she gets from time to time when lost in thoughts when she thinks no one notices. But never a smile so carefree.

Hope has to tear her eyes away.

"I really feel like there's a chance," she admits.

"Not until you learn to dance!" Kol grabs her hand and pulls her up and pushes her towards Josie who immediately tries to object.

"Kol, you should know that I'm really not much of a danc-"

"Hush, Josette! Ready? And... one, two, three, one, two, three-" Their movements are... clunky to say the least. Well, Josie's are clunky as she steps back and forth, her long legs doing her no favors this time as she nearly stumbles with every step.

"Ow!" Hope exclaims as Josie's foot tramples her own. She turns to glare at Kol.

"Just- just let it go. Again. And a one, two, three, one, two, three-" He is cut off as Hope kicks Josie in the shin and she emits a yelp of pain. "Hope!" 

He forces the two together again and glares as a clear signal to behave. He starts them off again. Josie's movements become more fluid and her posture begins to straighten. 

As Kol cheers their success and walks over to their right, Josie nods her head in his direction and arches an eyebrow at Hope with her mischievous smile. That gleam in Hope's eye returns and she nods. The pair begins to move toward the older con, still in perfect step with one another, whirling around the room as though they'd danced together their entire lives. Josie's arms wrap themselves around Hope's waist and lift her as she spins them, the con laughing as the street sweeper squeals. The two eventually twirl themselves back to the center of the room where they started, their movements slowing as their eyes connect, truly connect, for the first time.

"Well, I do believe that we should call it a night!" Kol interjects, pulling Josie back slightly as the pair is snapped out of their connect. "Tres bien, mademoiselle, tres bien."

"Merci, monsieur, merci."

"Tu parle français?"

"Un peu."

The three of them halt at the conversation's sudden change in language.

"Oh, she's charming, Josette!" Kol grins.

"What were you telling her?"

"Ah, all the aristocrats spoke French, Josette. The language of love, class, sophistication. Russian was for the common people, like, well, you." He turns to Hope. "You get to sleep on the sack of lentils tonight, Hope. You've earned it. Tomorrow, we begin again."

"In Russian, for the common man," Josie remarks pointedly as she hands Hope her history book and leaves behind Kol.

"A palace by the sea." Hope can't help the smile that crosses her lips, opening the book and thumbing through it. "Maybe."


	4. My Petersburg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that anyone who has been reading this enjoys it! As usual, this is not proofread, but if there's anything glaring, just let me know and I'll make sure to fix it. Otherwise, enjoy!

"Thank you, sir. I will not disappoint you," Roman promises, propping himself on his desk as he speaks to his commanding officer. "You have given me all that I could hope for. My own office with a view of the Nevsky Prospect. A Russian telephone that actually works." He chuckles before running pale. "No, sir, that was a joke, sir... We have wonderful telephones."

An officer clears his throat, drawing Roman's attention. "She's here."

"Sir, our little troublemaker has been found. I will update you soon." Roman hangs up and stands from his desk, walking over to face his windows. He hears the motion behind him as the guards bring in the girl, evidently struggling some before it stops. 

"Leningrad. It's quite the city, wouldn't you say? All those people down there, creating a future for themselves in the wake of the oppressive, tyrannical chains of the Tsar. I stand at this window for hours admiring them. I also stand here wondering why a few bad apples decide they want to try and bring rot to the entire bunch." He pauses. "I can see all the way to the old palace of Tristan de Martel. I've heard the strangest reports of funny, nay, counter-revolutionary behavior occurring within its walls."

"Why was I brought here?"

He scoffs. "I thought you might tell me, comrade." He turns to face her for the first time. "You! The frightened little street sweeper from the other day, cowering from the truck's backfiring. I almost-" His attention suddenly turns to the guards still in the room. He waves them away. "I had almost given up looking for you on the Nevsky Prospect. The girl with no name, correct? Though, if what I have been told holds true, it seems you have adopted one for yourself: Hope."

She nods. 

"I am Deputy Commissioner Roman Vaganov." He offers her hand out to shake it; she doesn't accept. "It, uh, it is the uniform and the office that give the impression, I assure you. I'm really not so bad." A smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "See? I have a sense of humor." She takes his hand to shake it and his gaze turns to concern. "You are shaking again. A bit of tea will warm us both."

"What are the charges?"

Roman chuckles. "There are no charges. And why should there be? You have a job, food on the table. A place for yourself, creating that future I spoke of earlier."

Hope smile is tight. "And I am very grateful."

"Which is why I am warning you to stop playing pretend before you no longer can."

"I don't understa-"

"Hope, if you were truly the girl that you have adopted the name of... they would kill you in a heartbeat."

"I wanted a name that no one else would give me, so I took one that inspires the possibility of the revolution's goals. If it just so happens to be that of someone who lived a life entirely different of mine... well everyone imagines being someone else and I am no different. It's an innocent enough fantasy."

"No, Hope. It is a dangerous one. The Mikaelsons no longer exist. They were entirely eradicated from the face of the earth, wiped from all but the history books. My father was one of the guards."

Hope gets up and turns away from the man. "I don't want to hear this."

"He was told to fire. He obeyed orders.

"I was only a boy. I saw the soldiers take the family to that house in Yekaterinburg, the House of Special Purpose. Even when so clearly weak and underhanded, they had this pride about them, like they were the only people that mattered in the world. Their daughter, head held high and this set jaw like she was going to beat fate. 

"I remember my father leaving one night with his pistol. Soon, there were screams. Shots rang out. Then there was this seemingly perpetual silence before it began again. The gunfire, the screams. It was silent once more, and this time, it did not resume. Of everything, the silence seems to resonate most. The world stopped breathing, and I knew that my childhood was behind me. I saw them bring out the bodies. No one got away.

"My mother believes my father died of shame at his task, but I believe he did what any proud Russian should have. It was a task desperately needed for the country, and it was one he completed."

He pauses as though lost in thought, or perhaps memories. "A revolution is a simple thing."

Hope approaches him slowly. "Thank you for you warning, comrade."

"Oh, no, simply Roman, please."

"Roman."

She turns but he gently grabs her wrist and turns her. "Your eyes. I must say, for someone who has encountered so much, they still carry such... pride."

Hope swallows. "I am late for work."

He doesn't release her. "As your new friend, be careful, Hope." His grip tightens. "As deputy commissioner Roman Vaganov, be  _very_ careful, Hope."

She turns and all but runs out of the room. 

"Hope."

* * *

"Life is good, comrade!"

"As long as there's vodka, life is wonderful!"

An outpour of laughter as two drunks huddle around two bonfires, sharing a bottle of vodka.

"Ugh, what is that smell?"

"That's Russia. But never mind that now. Mate, let's cheer to the Tsar himself!" one of them declared. "Our once proud king. His body lies cold six feet in the ground... and his spirit is drinking his vodka in Hell!"

They stumble their way over to a bench and continue their laughter and playful bickering.

"They know where we're living, Josette. His name is Roman."

The men perk up. "Well, well, well, look who it is! The Princess of Petersburg herself! Thought you'd run off to Paris."

"Oh, she missed her old partners in crime," one interjects.

"Looks like she got herself a new girrrrrlfriend instead," the other slurs, getting the attention of his friend as they both shift their attention to Hope.

Josie steps slightly in front of her. "She's not my girlfriend."

"Oh well of course not! It's Hope Mikaelson herself! Does she have you bowing for her like a good little Tsarina?"

Josie grabs her hand and tries to walk past them, but one of them cuts her off. "Are you going to Paris, ma cherie?"

Hope's lip curls in disgust. "Come on, Josette, I don't like these people."

A man scoffs. "What, are we not good enough for you, princess? Josette, if you don't want her, I'll take her!" He shoves Josette into his partner who keeps her occupied as he pulls Hope towards himself roughly. "Do you want to dance, sweetheart?"

"Certainly not with you!" She elbows him in the nose before shoving him away, grabbing a stick from the bonfire and smacking Josie's assailant on the back with it. Her feet come off the ground as her original captor picks her up... only for him to find out that her bite is just as bad as her bite. She chases the man off as she watches Josie shove her attacker to the ground. "Next time I won't go so easy!" she called out at the fleeing man.

Josie looks at her in awe and slight fear. "Where did you learn how to do  _that_ _?_ "

Hope turns back and sees the other man still lying on the ground in fear. "Want to see what else I can do?" She races towards the man, bonfire stick poised above her head, when Josie picks her up while the man runs. She brandishes the stick in front of her. "Come at me, I won't hurt you."

Josie holds up her hands in surrender. "I believe you," she says, slowly edging forward until she is in reach to grab the stick from Anya and toss it back in the bonfire.

"I didn't walk halfway across Russia without learning to defend myself," she concedes, sitting on the bench the men just occupied. "You had it easy."

Josie stiffens. "Not so easy." She joins Hope on the bench. "My father was an anarchist. He didn't care who was running the government because he didn't want one to begin with. That being said, he also figured that the Tsar's rule was more freedom than what the Bolsheviks would instill. He died in a labor camp for his convictions when I was seven. My mother died when I was young... I don't really remember her. I had a sister too, a twin, but she died when we turned twenty-two... she was sick, and it was a bad winter."

"Who raised you then?"

"No one, unless you count my sister, Elizabeth. I guess you could say we raised each other until we went our separate ways. She went to do real work. I stayed on the streets of St. Petersburg. We hadn't actually seen each other in years until she came up to me at the market and asked me to stay with her for a while. And then..." she trailed off, and Hope squeezed her hand lightly.

She cleared her throat. "I grew up on the streets of Petersburg. I started to learn what I needed to in order to survive, get by from one day to another. I've stolen food, traded for clothes and necessary supplies. I may be a Russian rat, but I'm a damn clever one. If I wasn't, I sure as hell wouldn't be here talking to you right now. I've seen so many people give up, just let go of caring for themselves. But I will not be one of them."

Josie stands and offers Hope a hand up. "Come on, I want to show you my Petersburg.

"If you stand here, you can see everything in Petersburg. From the palace spires, all the way down to the piers. Over there, I used to sell souvenirs of the city. Granted they were stolen, but I still offered them at a better price than the ones who actually made them. That is where I learned everything I know in some rough company, but I will say their methods of instruction were efficient. It's funny when a city is all you know. It seems like such a big place until you know everything in it."

They come to another bench and Josie sits on its back, offering her a hand up. "The sky is gorgeous tonight. It's quite the view." Even as she says it, her gaze is only trapped on Hope's profile, staring in wonder at the picture before her. She clears her throat. "Welcome to my Petersburg, Hope."

Hope turns back to her and gives a small grin. "It's beautiful."

Josie returns her smile. "My father used to bring Lizzie and me here. 'Bet you can see all the way to Finland up there, Josie!'"

"Josie?"

"It's what my family called me. There... there isn't a day that I don't miss them."

"So neither of us has a family."

Josie's attention turns to Hope as she wags a finger in her face. "You don't know that yes, madame. Your answer awaits you in Paris." A pause. "Tell me about the dog."

"His name was Toby." Her body seems to tense. "I loved him... so much."

"Well don't stop now."

Hope's eyes squeeze together tightly. "I'm not as strong as you think I am." Her arms cross over her body and she takes a few steps back as though retreating into herself.

Josie contemplates before her eyes light up. "Close your eyes."

Hope arches an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Trust me. Close your eyes and hold your hand out." As Hope obeys, she rummages through her bag until she finds the pendant, putting it gently in Hope's palm. "Open. You've worked hard. You've earned it."

"Josette, it's beautiful."

"It's broken. I can't seem to open the clasp."

Hope holds it up, the Mikaelson crest gleaming back at her proudly. Almost in a habit-like trance, Hope twists the clasp's button three times and presses it so that the front of the necklace opens.

"Oh come on. How did you know how to do that? ... Hope?"

Staring back at Hope is a picture of a young Grand Duchess, the Tsar and Tsarina, the noble brother of the Tsar, Elijah, and the Dowager herself, Rebekah. "A king and his noble brother," she murmurs. 

"Hope?"

She spins quickly back towards Josie. "How soon do you think we can leave? Every day that goes by is another border closed, trains being cancelled just as frequently." She digs through her pocket and hands Josie some money. "Here. It's not a lot, but it's more than we had before."

Josie's jaw tightens. "We're not even close."

Hope takes a step back. "What are you saying, Josette?"

"I- I thought I could get us out before they closed all the borders permanently." She tucks the money back in Hope's fist. "There must be someone else who can help you, Hope, but it's not me. I'm sorry."

"I don't want your money, Josette, you were the only hope I had!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Hope, this is your money."

"It's  _our_ money. I trusted you."

Josie sighs in frustration. "I said I'm sorry, Hope, and I really am."

"I didn't trust you enough. Now, you close your eyes."

Josie scoffs. "What for?" 

Hope gives her a look. "You are the most stubborn person I've ever met, second only to me. Please. Close your eyes and hold out your hand."  Josie sighs and covers her eyes mockingly and putting out her other hand in irritation. Hope pulls something out from a pocket within her coat. She studies it and gingerly places it in Josie's hand. "Open."

Josie's eyes open and immediately hone in on her palm. "It's... it's a diamond!"

"A nurse found it sewn in my underclothes at the hospital. She hid it for me until I was able to leave. It was our secret, though why, I cannot say. 'Don't tell a soul until the absolute moment you must,' she said. I had to know that you were someone I could trust."

"You've had it all this time without telling me?" Josie exclaims, her outrage and disbelief on full display. 

"Yes! Without it, I have nothing, Josette!"

"How do you know I won't just take it now and you'll never see me again?"

"I don't think that you would do that."

"If you weren't the one we were trying to pass off as the Mikaelson heir, I'd-" Josie cuts herself off as her excitement overtakes any anger, wrapping Hope in a hug and lifting her clear off the ground.

"Disaster!" Kol cried, running up to the celebrating duo. "The de Martel Palace has been raided! We're done for if we go- _Mother of Moses!_ " He exclaims as Josie holds up the diamond for him to see. 

"She had it all along!"

"I didn't trust either of you!"

"Eh, I don't blame you. But all is forgiven! You are our savior, Hope!" he whoops, spinning her around.

"Kol, I'm trusting you to get the exit papers. I'll fetch the diamond." She turns to see Hope already beginning to walk away. "Where are you going?"

"They owe me a week's wages. Every ruble counts!" she calls as she turns and continues on her path while Kol leaves for the papers.

"We're going to Paris on a train! I'm going to sleep a hotel... and I'll even take a bath in a real bathtub!"


	5. Journey to the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse if there's anything weird about this chapter, I wrote it over several days while pretty much all the other chapters were done in a sitting, and I also don't proofread before posting so we'll see how this goes. Besides that, happy almost Legacies finale day! Maybe I'll try to get another chapter worked up to drop the night of, we'll see. Until then, I hope you enjoy.

The train station is bustling with Russians, luggage in hand as they make their way to their final departure from the country. Kol and Josie wave Hope over. "It's a train for aristocrats and intellectuals - all the people the Bolsheviks want rid of. We are posing as members of the Petrova Ballet Russe. They're all the rage in Paris at the moment," Kol explains as he hands them their travel papers. 

Hope examines the papers when she notices a man has stopped in front of her. His face... seems vaguely familiar, though she cannot seem to place why. He, however, looks as though Hope has risen from the grave right before his eyes. He kneels before her, grabbing her hand and kissing it gently. "God bless you," he murmurs, raising his eyes to meet hers. Slowly, he rises and walks away as though nothing had just occurred, as though there weren't eyes given him inquisitive looks.

"I recognize that man: the Count Landon Kirby, a suitor of the Grand Duchess Hope Mikaelson if I'm not mistaken. In fact, I even believe that he was in attendance of Hope's Name Day ball that the Bolsheviks stormed. An aristocrat and an intellectual - a dead man on both counts," Kol muses. The train whistle blows. "We should go." 

Josie and Kol turn back to discuss details while Hope finds herself walking towards Count Landon. "I cannot seem to find the words to describe that this feels. Deserting my country. I feel as though I owe her an explanation," he begins. "'Stay,' I wish I could tell the coachmen. 'I pray you.' I wish that, if nothing else, I could just stay and take my chances with the Bolsheviks. But... I know that would be entirely foolish of me. There aren't enough lifetimes to say goodbye to every river, forest, bridge, orchard, everything. This country is harsh... and sweet. Every tear, every scar, it seems so harmless when faced with leaving it all behind." He straightens, but Hope can still see how his head bows slightly. "I'll bless my homeland until I die."

Hope considers him before rejoining Josie. "We can never return," she states simply.

Josie's smile is bittersweet. "Finally breaking free. Still, though... this place is all I know." She sighs. "It raised me. This country is far from perfect, especially now, but I will never stop mourning my loss of it."

Kol clears his throat. "I know it's hard to turn away... in fact, I don't know myself how I plan to close the door on my life here. But we must find a way. We will never be allowed back here, and as long as we remain here, we will never be safe. It's better that we leave."

The train whistle blows again. Kol leaves first, then Josie, though Hope notices the shaky breath she takes before tearing her eyes away from the beautiful Russian scenery before her. 

Hope turns to where Landon was standing earlier. "I'll bless my homeland til I die."

Turning to the platform, she grabs her suitcase and boards the train, sparing one last look at Russia before allowing the door to close behind her, Russia gone from sight entirely.

* * *

"I paid for first class!" Kol grumbles. "This is ridiculous! We should be enjoying champagne right now."

Josie scoffs. "Have you forgotten where we lived, comrade? There is no first class. Everyone is 'equal' now."

A passenger sits beside them, on the bench, forcing the three of them to scoot down. He lights a cigarette. "How dare you smoke without my permission?" Hope asks indignantly.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he replies gruffly.

"I am the Grand Duchess Hope Mikaelson!" 

The entire compartment stands, turning to look at her. Kol and Josie look like they might faint at any moment. The man backs away from her. "I'm in a compartment with a crazy woman!" Other passengers laugh and sit back down.

Kol and Josie slump over in relief. "Warn us next time you pull a stunt like that," Josie snaps, putting a hand on her heart. 

"I'm sorry, I wanted to see what it would feel like, saying I was her."

 Kol looked like he was still trying to catch his breath. "It's a long trip." He pats Hope's shoulder. "There will be plenty of time for practice. In Paris, your first test will be convincing the Dowager's lady-in-waiting, the fiery Countess Davina Claire. No one has access to her majesty without getting through her first."

 Josie scoffs. "She sounds like a dragon."

"Oh, on the contrary! Davina was gorgeous, fiery, confident, smart, taken. Everything I look for in a woman! She gave me a watch studded with diamonds."

Hope turns to him with a smile. "Did you love her, Kol?"

He returns her smile. "Madly, darling." He turns to Josie and leans in. "But I loved the watch more!" Hope playfully slaps his arm and stands, beginning to wander around the train cabin. 

"What happened to the watch?"

"Gone with the old Russia like everything else." Josie stands and begins to walk around. "I hope Davina is happy to see me," Kol muses aloud. "Oh, who am I kidding? How could she not be! I have not lost my rogue charm; I'll win her back!" He chuckles. 

Hope fiddles with the locket, hands trembling slightly as she looks out the window at the moving scenery. "What is wrong with me? My hands are shaking, my heart is about to beat out of my chest. I've traveled across Russia but sitting on a train has me nervous. I said yes for a reason." She looks about the cabin at the unsuspecting travelers. "Meet the royal mess, everyone!" she mutters. 

Josie watches Hope's self-monologue. "Take a deep breath, Josie. This chance is all we've got. All we have to do is go to Paris and put on our show for the Dowager and watch as the rewards flow!" She turns to a pair of women who were examining her in confusion and mild interest. She winks playfully and holds back a grin as they begin to whisper to each other.

The trio reconvenes beside Hope at the windows of the train. "It's a lovely day," Kol sighs.

"Ah, yes, perfect for a completely illegal getaway," Josie replies sarcastically.

"Hush, Josette, no more doubt!"

Hope smiles. "I'm supposed to be the doubtful one here, Josette, not you. We're almost out!"

Josie can't help but smile as she looks at the hope in their grand duchess's eyes. "Well then we need to prepare, don't we?" She gestures back to their bench.

The trio are sitting and laughing, for once feeling as though they had a moment of peace amidst the chaos. No Roman or any of his spies leering over their shoulders to make sure they were good comrades. Just the three of them against the world.

Then the train came to a stop. Russian officers came into the cabin.

"Papers!" One of them turns to the three. "Papers, please."

Kol grins, turning on the charm. "Good evening, gentlemen. Is there a problem?"

"We're looking for someone illegally leaving the country."

"Didn't have the right papers, eh?"

"Right papers, wrong name. We're looking for the Count Landon."

A shot rang out. 

Hope yelped and buried herself into Josie's shoulder, quiet sobs wracking her body. Josie reaching an arm around Hope's back protectively, lightly playing with the ends of her hair. The officers leave to go investigate the shot.

Kol's eyes draw downwards, gently clearing his throat. "I'll go see what happened." His voice is almost uncharacteristically soft.

Josie looked up sharply. "We know what happened." Hope's sobs become louder.

"Keep her calm. Reaction will betray us."

Josie lightly pulls Hope from her shoulder. "We'll be safe soon."

"That's what my father said right before the soldiers started pointing their guns at us. I was holding Toby... his little heart was beating so fast. 'They're decent men,' I said. 'They won't hurt us.'" Her words almost seemed as though they were running together.

Josie looked concerned as she tried to bring Hope's eyes up to her own. "What are you talking about?"

"Then they began to read the death warrant for my family. My father tried to ask them what was going on but then they raised their guns and-"

"Hope, you need to stop! You're taking this too far!"

"Not if I really am her-!"

"Shhh!" Josie looks around to find everyone else preoccupied still with what was going on outside. "We are almost out of Russia. We're close to the border. Once we cross it, you're safe."

Hope sits back. "You put all these ideas in my head of who I could be. Now you've got me thinking that they might be real."

Josie looks as though she's about to say something back when Kol rushes up. "I'm about to have a heart attack! Three officers just came on board to arrest two young women and a man."

"That could be anyone."

Kol reveals the wanted poster with sketches of their faces. "I don't think so!"

Josie looks to the end of the cabin where see officers making their way through. "Well, what are we going to do?"

Hope spins to the end of the cabin opposite of where the officers are coming and runs out the door as the train starts moving. "We're getting off!"

Josie follows after her as she begins to climb the side of the train. Kol looks as shocked as the rest of the passengers as chaos erupts and the entire cabin shifts to watch them from the windows. "The train is moving again!"

"Unless you want to end up like Landon," she shouts back, "you might want to hurry!"

Kol grumbles something under his breath as he quickly runs out and joins them. From the open windows, they can hear the passengers scrambling and officers barking out orders and yelling at them to come back in.

"Jump!"

* * *

"Do you mean to tell me that the train crossed the Russian border and they weren't on it?"

Roman flinches. Even through the phone's receiver, the sharp tone of his words was like a knife. "A minor setback," Roman assures his superior. "Don't worry. They will try to outrun us, but they'll end up back here. They always do."

"Follow them to Paris. If she is not the Mikaelson brat she pretends to be, we'll make an example of her to all those who would dare question the communist regime."

Roman's jaw clenches and his stomach churns. "And... if she is the Mikaelson girl?"

The returned chuckle is chilling. "Well, then you will have the noble task of finishing what your father started all those years ago in that cellar like a good son. Pull the trigger. Enjoy your new office, comrade. Alive or dead. It's up to you."

The line went dead. 

"'Everyone imagines being someone else. It's an innocent enough fantasy.'" Roman studies the Nevsky Prospect as he muses aloud. "I was so hesitant to let her go, yet I did anyway. Look what's happened. Does she believe the story she has conjured for herself? Do her allies?" An officer enters and hands Roman his coat. "I suppose it doesn't matter. I am my father's son; he didn't ask questions so why should I? But she's only a child, she just needs protection... no. I can't allow any kind of connection with her. There's this power about her that's so hard to define." Another officer hands Roman his papers. "Her voice says, 'I'm innocent!' but her eyes reveal her deception. But your heart-" A final officer hands Roman his gun. "Your heart cannot remain still."

His finger fiddles with the trigger before pocketing it and leaving his office for the train station. __

* * *

Josie, Hope and Kol look around at the scenery before them before Kol drops to his knees and kisses the ground. "La belle, France!"

Josie smacks her lips in disappointment. "It doesn't seem all that special to me."

"Russia was more beautiful," Hope interjects.

Kol gawks at them. "We are not in Russia anymore; we are in Paris! Russia is not the world! Open your hearts and minds- learn something! Oh god, I'm getting emotional." He takes a breath. "Last time I was in Paris, well, you think I'm charming now, you should've seen me then."

Hope frowns. "I'm going to ask why we've stopped." She runs off to go speak to the driver.

Josie smiles fondly, nearly running to join her. "Look at her, rattling away in French with the driver. You've taught her well! We could actually pull this off, Kol." She turns to him with a smile only to be met with his hesitance.

"She'll break your heart, Josette."

She swallows. "You don't know what you're talking about, as per usual."

"If they accept her as the Hope Mikaelson, you will never see her again."

Josie takes a few steps back as Hope runs up. "He says this is as far as he goes, but if we climb this hill, he says we can just see Paris!"

Kol runs up eagerly as Josie lags behind. "We really made it."

"You were constantly irritating... but even when I was upset with you, I never doubted you. Thank you, Josette." Hope smiles.

Josie clears her throat and takes a step back. "Thank Kol."

"I can see the Eiffel Tower! It's true, it's really there!" Josie runs off to join Kol from the hilltop while Hope stays behind and sits on the new suitcase she'd bought while they'd traveled. She ignores their calls to join them for the time being.

Her heart feels as though it is beating out of her chest. "Don't fail me now," she whispers to it, placing her head on her chest. "I can't turn back, not now that I've finally arrived. Someone is waiting for me. I had to have had family once. A home. Love. I will never be able to rest until I find them." She stands. "I have to follow this road on my journey to the past in order to move on to the future. It will bring me home."

She straightens, squaring her jaw and grabbing her suitcase before climbing up the hill before her, the ever-constant fire in her eyes seeming to burn even brighter as she joins her friends. Her eyes take in the landscape before her, the Eiffel Tower glittering in the distance.

"At last."

 

 


End file.
